


Six Wounds

by KrastBannert



Series: Moments [3]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Getting to Know Each Other, Interspecies Romance, Romance, Science Fiction & Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2020-03-08 19:45:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18901399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrastBannert/pseuds/KrastBannert
Summary: "Say that again?""Bitch, fight me."The five times Lia heals Sykron, and the one time he heals her.





	1. Chapter I - Hypothermia

# Hypothermia

## 

“Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them?” – Gandalf the Grey

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I glanced up at the other side of the little shelter; my… _companion_ …was still slumbering away. He’d been asleep under the emergency blanket for…two hours, I think. I’d dragged him here half dead; Veles had said his body temperature was nearly ten degrees below “normal”. 

At least, normal for a Fallen. 

“Remind me why we’re doing this again?” Veles asked as he materialized in front of me. 

“Because, we aren’t dicks,” I responded, picking up my sketchbook from where it lay on the ground. I nibbled on the end of my pencil, unsure of where to begin. 

There was a gentle nudge on my shoulder.” Didn’t you say that when I asked why we brought down that Fallen skiff back in Helsinki?” 

I shot Veles a glare.” I’m not a murderer, little _asshole_. Maybe I’ll have to kill the poor guy eventually, but for now I’ll let fate decide.” 

“Yeesh, touchy. I get it, I get it.” Veles’ facets spun around the light at his center as he eyed me, his own little indicator of being sarcastic, before he floated away and settled down next to one of the heat lamps I’d set up. 

I returned to my sketch, putting the pencil to paper and gently stroking out the next set of lines. I’d glance up to my subject; I was working on a drawing of the Fallen laying across from me. Just…something to occupy my time. Not like I had anything else to do. 

So, I let myself become lost in my drawing. Drawing a line here, adding some shading there…it felt calming, whereas…everything else was odd. So incredibly strange. I was a Guardian, he was a Fallen; sworn mortal enemies for… _hundreds_ of years. Thousands, maybe. 

Yet here I was, _drawing_ one. 

I looked up at the Fallen again as he shuffled around, turning himself over. I glanced down at the paper again, then glanced back up, chewing on my lip as I checked the proportions. This guy was… _large_. Very large. Squinting my eyes, I noticed… _hair_. Or fur, or something like that. How I had not seen that? He had a freakin’ lion’s mane on his neck. Going back to the paper, I added a few strokes on the back of his neck. 

I yawned before setting my pencil down, rubbing my eyes. I picked my pencil back up; my vision swam momentarily before I blinked it away. For a while the only thing I could hear was the soothing lullaby-scratch of my pencil on the paper. 

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, I was starting awake. My sketchbook was laying against one of my feet, my pencil dangling from one hand. I blinked blearily, stretching my arms out above my head, then I froze. 

Staring at me from across the little hovel were four bright spots. Brilliant, emerald green spots. Correction: _eyes_. Four emerald green eyes that shone in the low light from the heat lamps. I sat up straight, staring into the Fallen’s eyes; he stared back, straight at me. The Fallen let out some kind of noise, a guttural string of growls, clicks, and warbles. He was talking but it _definitely_ didn’t sound anything like Fallen speech I’d heard before. 

“Veles?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” He twirled up into the air, focusing his eye on the Fallen across the tent. The Fallen blinked once, twice, then a third time, but otherwise had no reaction. Veles spoke in something…similar to the Fallen. I wasn’t sure if it was really that different or not, but the Fallen seemed to perk up slightly before he spoke again. 

Veles turned back to Lia.” He wants to know…” He glanced back at the Fallen, who simply nodded, before he spoke again.” He wants to know what the shit is going on and why he’s ‘stuck in a freezebox with a weird-ass tree and a pale-ass motherfucking puppet’.” 

I stared at the Fallen for a moment before I simply shook my head, a smile splitting my lips.” Tell him I found him next to this ‘weird-ass tree’ buried half in snow and I saved his ass from turning into a meat popsicle.” There was a low rumble; laughter, maybe? Or a chuckle. 

“He says thank you, and that he didn’t mean to call you a puppet. But that you are definitely a pale-ass motherfucker.” 

“And he’s a fat fuck. I had to drag him three miles in the snow and down a six-foot hole. By myself. And he is _not_ light.” 

The Fallen snorted, shaking his head before allowing a gentle silence to fall. I picked up my sketchbook again, turning it on end as I eyed my sketch. It seemed like the proportions were a little off, but it was…no. This was not my best work. Not a very good sketch. The proportions were more than off, the tree wasn’t drawn correctly, the space blanket draped over the Fallen wasn’t drawn to my satisfaction. A pretty disappointing result, to my mind. 

There was a cough from the other side of the shelter, and I picked my head up, eyebrows raised. The Fallen had a finger outstretched, pointing at my sketchbook, what I thought to be a curious light of sorts in his eyes. 

“You want this?” I held up the book, heart fluttering. Show him my _sketchbook_? I…I had never done that before. Not for Cayde, not for Amanda, or Sara, not even…not anyone. 

“I believe he wants to see it, yes,” Veles chimed in, regarding me with an appreciative gaze. He’d seen my sketchbook, but never offered an opinion on it. I bit down on my lip, my grip tightening on the edges of my sketchbook. I…I didn’t want to offend this Fallen, make him lose trust in me or something. But…he also didn’t know me. And I’d been told once, a long…long time ago…that to gain someone’s trust, you had to offer something of yourself. 

I took a breath, and held it out, heart beating harder as I handed it over. The Fallen gently gripped the book in one hand, shuffling a little closer to accept it. He cast the blanket aside and propped the book open on his knees. 

He ran his fingers over the thick pages; I watched his eyes widen. He looked up at me, then back at the drawing, then up at me. He pointed at the drawing, then at me, uttering a single word. 

“’Me?’” Veles translated. I nodded, scratching at my wrist. My companion ran his fingers over it more gently now, almost reverent. He took one last, long look at it before he returned the book.” ’It’s beautiful.’” 

The knot in my chest untightened and I felt my cheeks flush a little.” Thank you…uh…what’s his name?” 

“He says his name is Sykron.” 

“Sykron…tell him my name is Lia.” The Fallen inclined his head, as if bowing. We sat in silence for a few moments before Sykron wrapped the space blanket around himself. He seemed to relax after a few moments, his head leaning back against the snow. I waited a moment before I closed my sketchbook, setting it off to the side. 

I stretched out on my side, wrapping my cloak around myself. As I drifted off, I heard a guttural, yet gentle whisper. Veles whispered to me, and a smile drifted across my face. 

_“’Thank…you.’”_


	2. Chapter II - Break

#  Break 

## 

“I’m an army doctor, which means I can break every bone in your body while naming them.” – John Watson, _Sherlock: The Abominable Bride_

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An assault rifle chattered, and a Dreg screeched as its chest was torn to shreds. I dove for cover, yet another shock grenade sticking into the pavement next to where I’d been standing. It exploded moments later, the electrical charge making my hard stand up. I grit my teeth against the painful shock that surged up my boots.

I peeked my head up, looking for Sykron. He was on the other side of the street shouting insults at a Vandal stuck in a doorway. I shouldered my rifle and squeezed off a trio of shot down the street before ducking back, the shrill wine of a wire rifle echoing in my ears as the bolt seared past my head.

“Insult them some other time, jackass!” I yelled. I couldn’t hear him, but I knew he was pouting and grumbling, probably trying to be funny. Which…yeah, he was actually pretty funny. Corny, in that clumsy, endearing sort of way. The gunfire resumed, only to be cut off a moment later as the cranium of Sykron’s newest pal became paste on the wall.” Veles, how many are left?”

_“Fifteen. A Captain, seven vandals, six dregs. And one Marauder.”_

“Well, fuck.” Marauders were the _worst_.

The Dregs, predictably, went down easily; I almost felt bad for them. The Vandals took a little longer. The Captain, not surprisingly, ran away. Which left Sykron and I standing in the middle of the street, back to back, searching for the Marauder.

“See anything?” I asked, eyes flicking back and forth.

“No,” came the grunted reply. My heart pounded as the hairs on the back of neck began to stand up; something was close, I could feel it. But the street was still except for a gentle breeze. I whirled as I heard a loud clack.

A rusty old can rolled across the street. I sighed, biting at my lip. I glanced at the radar – nothing.

“Veles - anything?”

_“Nothing. No life signs apart from you – wait, what? That can’t be right.”_ No shit that couldn’t be right – Sykron should have been right behind me. I cast a glance over my shoulder, but he was gone. Where the hell had he disappeared to? I hadn’t even noticed he was gone!

“Where’s Sykron?” I hissed at the Ghost.

_“I don’t know! Um…check the building to your left, the old storefront. I caught a brief thermal flash in there right before the can fell.”_

I followed his instructions, creeping up to the door. Still no sound, no movement – nothing. The hair on my neck was at attention. I clamped my rifle on my back, pulling out my shotgun. I cocked it gently, letting the familiar _click-clack_ ring through the air. I shouldered the door open, stepping into the darkness. My faceplate unpolarized as I switched to an infrared view. Nothing to see but dust, decay, and rust. My foot kicked against one of the old store stands; I winced as it squeaked. I waited, listening, holding my breath.

Nothing.

I slowly let out the breath I’d been holding and continued my search. I crept through the rooms, only to find more and more nothing. Where had he disappeared to? And where had that Marauder gone? Those guys were dangerous – not something I wanted to leave Sykron alone to deal with. I whirled at a sudden crash, finger on the trigger and ready to pull.

“Speak of the devil…” I flicked the safety on my rifle, clamping it to my back as I stepped forwards.” Sykron, what the hell happened?”

“Marauder ran. I caught,” he answered simply. His voice was strained, and I could see just before he fell that he was _definitely_ favoring his right leg. I tossed the shotgun aside, helped him roll over. He was leg was…not normal. 

“And why are you favoring one leg?” If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn he was blushing under his helmet.

“Killed Marauder. Then fell…in hole,” he hissed, voice trailing off in a strangled yelp as I pressed my fingers against his lower leg. Veles appeared and flicked on his light. I had suspected it just by touch, but under the light his leg was obviously swelling up. I removed my helmet, ignoring the dust in the air. I batted Sykron’s hand away from his leg.

“Scans show a broken secondary fibula, stress fracture of the frontal tibia. No field surgery required, just immobilization.”

I nodded, then raised an eyebrow at Sykron, who was now sheepishly backed against the wall. I tugged off Sykron’s boot, tossing it to the side before taking off the plates strapped to his leg. I glanced around, looking for materials – nothing to splint with. 

So be it. 

I knocked through part of the wall, coughing at the dust kicked up, then tore off a thin piece of wood. I dug in my pack for some rope or cloth – something to hold it in place. 

“You fell?”

He was definitely blushing now.” Three.”

Three times, he meant. We’d been working these past few months but…English did not always agree with Fallen vocal systems. “Sykron…you’re _not_ supposed to do that.”

He simply shrugged, what I thought was amusement flitting across his face before he grimaced as I lifted his leg, wrapping paracord underneath it. I rolled my eyes, a smile crossing over my face; inwardly, I winced. Broken legs _hurt_. I broke my fibula in three pieces once and I was screaming, crying, and convulsing in pain. Sykron, meanwhile, was wincing, grimacing, occasionally grunting in pain. The guy was tough.

“Only you, Sykron, could beat a _Fallen Marauder_ and-“ I was interrupted, still tying a final knot, when a clawed hand crushed my wrist. I turned to meet Sykron’s gaze; he was in my face, leaning forwards. I could feel his breath on my face – it was warm, but not uncomfortably so. It smelled like…mint? That was odd. But it was…it was _nice_.

That was a weird thought.

“ _Not Fallen_ ,” he growled, burning emerald fires staring straight at me.” Eliksni.”  
I nodded slowly, eyes going wide.” I understand.” Sykron stared at me for a moment more before relaxing back against the wall. I went back to work, wrapping his leg in paracord and strapping another piece of rebar to the inside part of his leg. Fallen body structure was different than what I was used to, but…it worked, after a fashion.

Eventually, satisfied with my work, I sat back on my haunches. Sykron gently moved his leg, winced, put it back down; he gave me a pleading glance. I just rolled my eyes. I didn’t have any painkillers, and he knew that. He was just pouting.

“Come on, big guy, up an’ at ‘em.” I extended a hand. He grasped it, and I hefted him to his feet to mutual grunting. He teetered for a moment, and I caught him, looping an arm around his shoulders. We looked at each, he flashed a smile, before taking a single hop forwards. We walked out, arm in arm, swapping insults and bad jokes in the empty hallways and windy streets.

“You ever gonna try and lose weight?” I asked him.

“You try gain, first, little fucking twig,” he retorted, cackling to himself. I chuckled. It was funny…I’d done this months ago with him, when I’d first found him frozen in the wilderness – admittedly, he’d been unconscious – but there was something…something different.

Somehow…I didn’t mind his weight quite as much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a chapter, boys, girls, and assorted attack helicopters!
> 
> I'll try to get out another one in the next week, but don't expect another chapter between July 10th and August 10th. I'll be at summer training as part of a commitment for the scholarship paying my college tuition.
> 
> I am far from a master of romance, so this may be moving a little fast, but chapters in this story aren't separated by days chronologically - the time frame ranges from weeks, to months, possibly even up to years, depending on how I decide to take things. If you have any advice about writing romance, I would really love to hear it!
> 
> Speaking of which, please drop me a comment and let me know how I'm doing! Any advice, thoughts, constructive criticism, gifs, memes, and mathematical operations are welcome.
> 
> -Krast


	3. Chapter III - Burn

# Burn

## 

“The echoes of beauty you’ve seen transpire, Resound through dying coals of a campfire.” – Ernest Hemingway

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“You need to stop scratching.”

Sykron looked up, his face flushing a darker grey. It was the Falle – no, _Eliksni_ version of blushing.

“It itches,” he whined, a low keening trill. I smiled and hung my head. Sykron was such a child, sometimes.

“Want me to look at it?”

He nodded, extending his hand. I shuffled around the fire to sit next to him. Pine needles and leaves crinkled as I relaxed, pulling his hand into my lap. I began unwrapping the dressing, taking care not to rip the skin any more than I had already. I’d done that three days ago, ripped even more skin than had already been damaged. It hurt to think about it.

Sykron had gotten burned when he tried to swat a shock grenade back to whence it came. He didn’t think much about the possibility of it being set to detonate upon contact. All in all, he was lucky that it was only one-and-a-half arms that got burned.

We were silent as I unwound the cloth. The dressing was relatively dry, only a little bit of blood and puss soaked into the fabric. A good sign. As I dabbed at the wound with the dressing, patting away any excess fluids, I _had_ to ask – a question had been burning in my mind for days now.

“Why’d you try it?”

I had…really started to care about him, after the “Marauder Incident” three months ago. I couldn’t explain it. It just…happened. When I heard him cry out that day, and turned to find him writhing, electricity coursing around two of his arms, I hadn’t been able to do anything but scream for the first moment. 

Then I’d killed everything I could find. 

That I didn’t feel any remorse for it scared me, but at the same time, I didn’t care. I just wanted to know why he’d done it. I’d known Sykron for just over a year now. I’d seen him every single day since then, and I couldn’t…no, I _refused_ to think about _that_. Sykron might have been expensive, needing medical treatment like clockwork, but I was _not_ losing him.

Sykron didn’t respond as I tossed the old dressing into the campfire. The flames licked at the cloth, darting higher as they fed. I was examining his blistered skin, twisted and marked by the electrical arcs.

“When little…” his voice startled me, and I looked up; his eyes were far away, focused on something in the fire, something unseen,” younger…how you say? Sis-ta?”

I smiled; he tried so hard to get English right.”’Sis- _ter_ ’, Sy. Sister.”

Sykron nodded imperceptibly, the barest ghost of a smile barely touching his lips. _Oh…he’s serious_.” She…she killed by House Sky in raid.” He looked down at me, eyes filled with sadness.” She _innocent_. Just…just nine…nineten? And…thought I could have changed it, if I there.”

I stopped what I was doing, ointment-covered fingers pressed against his arm.” And…in the moment…you thought of me like that?” I could have guessed he cared about me. But…cared _that much_? I…could never have guessed _that_.

“Always do.” There was not a moment of hesitation. I let his hand rest in my lap and I stared at his face. He looked away.

“Sykron…” Butterflies danced in my stomach; my heart fluttered – barely, just…just barely.  
“Is stupid, this known,” he muttered, shaking his head,” but true.”

I took a deep breath, lifted a hand up. I cupped his chin gently, turning his head towards me, sliding my hand up to his cheek. His skin felt cool, and rough, as if I was rubbing shark skin.

“It’s not stupid,” I murmured,” it’s sweet.”

He stared at me for a moment, brilliant emerald eyes searching my own. One of his hands reached up and clasped mine. His thumb haltingly stroked over the top of my hand, his rough skin rubbing against mine. My hand was so much smaller than his. I didn’t mind.

“Just…don’t die on me, alright? Please?” I asked, a smile flitting across my face. He chuckled, a low rumbling sound that. I…I loved that sound, I realized.

“Promise to _try_.” I smiled, opened my mouth, when there was a loud crack, and a painful squeal. We snapped to attention; my pistol was out of its holster and aimed in a flash, eyes straining to see into the dark.

A raccoon darted into the woods; a small branch lay on the ground. I breathed, lowering my pistol; I was way too jumpy. I glanced back at Sykron, feeling my cheeks heat up. His own cheeks were flushed a dark grey. We both looked away for a moment.

“I’ll just, ah…I’ll finish this,” I whispered, and he nodded. I gently rubbed the burn ointment down his arm, tracing the strange forking patterns. It reminded me of a river I’d seen once from orbit; repeating endlessly, the main channel fed by smaller rivers fed by creeks, fed by brooks, by streams, an endless flow of water stretching thousands of miles from mountain to ocean.

Sykron stirred; I’d gotten distracted and stopped rubbing in the ointment, just tracing the patterns, cradling his arm in my lap. I felt my cheeks heat up again – I was fairly certain that if I’d been human, they would have been tomato red instead of royal blue. I could tell I was embarrassed even without that – the lights that danced under my skin were raging in my hands. I wiped the rest of the ointment off and took out a new dressing from the pack near me. I wound it around his arm, securing each end in scraps of what little tape I had left.

Finally finished, I got up and quietly retrieved one of my canteens, setting it in front of us as I sat on his uninjured side. I sat back, leaning on my hands. I glanced up at Sykron; I suddenly wondered what it would feel like to hug him.

The fire crackled. An owl called into the night somewhere in the distance. Cicadas sang quietly in the trees, and there was a small animal behind us somewhere – a raccoon or fox, maybe. A stiff October breeze ran through our little camp; I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself.

I glanced over at Veles, across the fire. He had wrapped himself in a blanket and settled himself on a pack some hours earlier – it had been quite comical to watch, the dead-serious Ghost floating around wearing a blanket like…well, like a ghost. He’d been running a full diagnostic on his systems for hours; he’d twitch every now and again, but otherwise had been silent. He deserved the rest. Truthfully, I was jealous; he didn’t really get cold.

Unlike me. 

The night wore on and Sykron and I drifted in and out of conversations, serious and childish, our voices and laughter carrying low into the night, I got colder and colder. I began to shake, my teeth chattering, and I started to viciously rub my arms. I felt a heavy weight settle on shoulders; I glanced up. Sykron was settling himself a little closer to the fire, missing his cloak, his special green one with the fur-lined neck that he never seemed to take off.

I could practically _see_ the hair on his neck stand up, and I watched as he shivered. It was so slight I almost didn’t see it. I shouldered the cloak off – it was _huge_ , a mass of fur and cloth – and tried to hand it back to him. He shook his head.

“You small, cold,” he said, extending two hands towards the fire the other two – the injured ones – lay curled in his lap.” Need more than I.”

I was quiet for a moment, and I chewed on my lip. I looked at the cloth in my hands, looked over at him, suddenly remembering my earlier thought.” You’re a stubborn ass, Sykron.” I scooted closer to the fire and threw the cloak over both of us. Sykron froze for a moment as I slowly unraveled my arm, and I hesitated before looping my arm around his back. He was still for a moment before he linked his two arms around me, pulling me in a little closer.

He was warm, not exaggeratedly so, just like…like drinking hot cocoa on a snowy day kind of warm. I couldn’t help but burrow a little closer, pulling the cloak tight. Having two arms around my back was different – it was more comforting, more supportive, just…better. We didn’t speak, our conversations forgotten as we stared into the fire, the flames crackling and dancing amongst the piled logs. It wasn’t long before I felt my eyelids droop. I allowed my head to fall to the side, resting it against his chest.

“Might fall asleep,” I murmured gently. There was no ‘might’ about it – I was _definitely_ going to fall asleep. Everything seemed to melt away, all my thoughts, all my worries, my anxieties, they melted away as I stared into the fire before me, relaxing in the warmth that wrapped around my entire being.

“That’s okay,” came the response. His chest rumbled as he spoke. I twisted around for a moment until I was comfortable. I felt a gentle squeeze; I squeezed Sykron back, a gentle approximation of a hug, as best as we could do.

It was…I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt like this. Peaceful. Safe. Content.

_Happy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellllllloooooooooo everyone! I have RETURNED! You can now expect my usual, rather slow, semi-but-also-not-regular updates once more.
> 
> Hopefully this is good - I'm not used to writing things of this nature, things that are touchy and fluffy and so forth, but where the characters aren't thrust into a relationship at the end of the chapter. I really, really hope it's good - this story has turned into my child, sort of. It's the first one I've really got a chance at finishing (halfway done, my dudes!), and that, to me, matters a lot.
> 
> Any feedback or advice you have, any reviews, any comments, anything you have to share, my good readers, I would love to hear.


	4. Chapter IV - Laceration

# Laceration

## “The fact that the price must be paid is proof that it is worth paying." - al'Lan Mandragoran, _The Eye of the World_ by Robert Jordan

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I brushed at the droplet that spattered against my sketchbook. Another one fell. And another. I kept wiping, lost in the repetitive motion, frustration building until I screamed. I threw the book across the shack; it smacked into a wall and dropped to the floor with a quiet thud. I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapped my arms around them; I took a quiet deep breath as I rested my head against my forearms. I heard Veles materialize in the air next to me.

“Hey, kiddo…you know he’s gonna be okay?”

I sighed, my breath shuddering as I let it out.” I know. It’s just…”

“…won’t stop?”

I nodded, stealing a glance at Sykron, sleeping – no, not sleeping, but… _anesthetized_ – on the cot next to me. His chest armor was piled in the corner, and a massive bandage was wrapped around his torso, winding through and around his arms. That Knight…I didn’t want to think about it…but…

_A deep chuckle, far too familiar. Suddenly I was…I was a girl again, a new Guardian. I couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t I breathe!?!_

_A raised sword, black like the deepest depths of a bottomless ocean, drank all the light around me. Then Sykron was there, his flesh torn, his blood on my cheek. It was warm. So…so warm…_

_I stood frozen, I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe no no_ NO!

I shook my head as I felt a nudge on my cheek. I looked to see a blue optic right next to me, tiny weathered polygons flared in what I knew to be worry.

“Hey…it’s alright. You did what you had to. You saved him, kid, you know that?”

I nodded, wiping my eyes. I reached for something, anything to keep my hands from shaking. My fingers curled into something soft. I looked over, and tears threatened to spring forth again. My stupid, _stupid_ fingers had curled into Sykron’s cloak. I smiled as my eyes burned. Oh, Sykron…why did he have to be so caring? So selfless, so…just… _him_?

Despite my…my gut instinct, I threw his cloak over my shoulders, burrowing into the thick fur. I buried my face in it and inhaled deeply; I couldn’t be close to him right now – he had already come close enough to that fine line – so this was as good as I could get. His cloak smelled just like him – sort of…woodsy, with a hint of that smell after a thunderstorm, where the lightning is still in the air.

I felt Veles force his way underneath the cloak to settle on my shoulder against my cheek. It was something he rarely did, but that…that he knew _I_ loved.

I smiled again, pressing my cheek lightly against him.

“Thanks, Veles.” I never paid enough attention to the little guy, it felt like, but he’d been my closest friend.” I…I’m sorry I haven’t been around you very much.”

“Ah, it’s okay, kid. You’re young and in love, I don’t blame you.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stole a glance over at Sykron, who was still asleep. He shifted a little on his cot; his lips moved like he was mumbling in his sleep, but I couldn’t hear him.

“Is…is that was this is?”

There was a metallic chuckle.” Girl, you’ve been in love with him since the week after you met him. I’ll admit, I didn’t like it at first – I mean, he is Fallen, and they haven’t been kind to the City and its people – but you know…he’s alright.”

“Glad to have your approval,” I snorted. I sighed, rubbing at my face.” I just…don’t know…I don’t know how to do this.” It was true – I’d never had more than casual flings that lasted a couple months at a time. And there was Sara and Gunnar, who’d been together for quite a while – a century, at least. And the Old Man…oh, that was a true love story, right there. One for the history books.

“I’m not sure he does, either.”

“Does he…how could I even be sure that he feels the same?”

“Well, that’s part of the risk. You don’t. But, trust me, he does – anyone that’s crazy enough to play baseball with a grenade to keep you safe has some kind of feeling for you.”

My eyes burned again; this time, I let the tears fall. Veles pushed up against my cheek, nuzzling it. The pressure was comforting as I shuddered silently. I was…tired. That was the best way I could describe it. Just…tired.

I had to have fallen asleep at some point. I lifted my head, heard shuffling, quiet voices. I blearily lifted my head, blinked away the crust that had formed over my eyes in my sleep. My eyes felt puffy, raw.

My heart did a somersault.

I rubbed at my eyes, thinking I was seeing things, imagining it – no. I was seeing correctly. Veles was floating above Sykron’s cot, talking quietly in a dialect I didn’t understand, with my big, burly, clumsy, _stupidly_ brave Eliksni.

I stood without a sound, and walked over, the cloak rasping quietly on the ground. It dwarfed me – it was most decidedly not made for my five-foot-two, hundred pound frame. Truthfully, that was why I loved it. I swept into their conversation, throwing one edge of the cloak over Sykron and wrapping my arms around his neck. He flinched and I let go for a moment, before his arms went around me and he pulled me back down.

“You’re an idiot,” I whispered. I wanted to cry for…probably the eighth time in the past twenty four hours. This, though, was probably the first time I wanted to cry from relief.

Sykron’s chest rumbled lightly; I could hear Veles chuckling to himself, too. I sent the Ghost a one fingered gesture that only made him laugh harder.

“Yes, I am.”

I pulled back to look at him, carefully.” Promise me you’ll _never_ do that again.”

Sykron looked for a moment before nodding – but I saw the smile in his eyes, the one that barely formed on his lips. I groaned and hung my head, leaning it against his. A chill ran down my spine as I realized…this was probably the closest I’d ever been to him; at least, face to face.

“Fight me, bitch.”

“Say that again?”

“You know what I said,” he chuckled. I shook my head, a smile spreading across my lips. I couldn’t help but chuckle, I had to – his retort, it just…it _got_ me. And it encapsulated the wonderful, brilliant, sarcastic asshole that was Sykron. My chuckles were cut off when he put a hand gingerly on my cheek; I sucked in my breath. It…I didn’t know if it was just me, but his eyes seemed to twinkle just a little more.

We stared at each other for a moment. Something…it was like fitting in that last piece of a puzzle, and you just feel relief, accomplished, and more. All of that flashed through me. I slowly closed my eyes and bent my head down.

He must have started moving before I did, because his lips met mine first.

This was…it was the oddest first kiss I’d ever had. Fallen lips were different than human – more circular, more teeth. And there was nothing _rushed_ about it. It was…calm. He felt tentative. Like he wasn’t entirely sure.

Somehow, though…somehow it was the _best_ kiss I’d ever had. More romantic, more meaningful. I pulled away after a moment, regarding him. A tingle flew across my face and for some reason, I shivered. It was a gesture I’d felt a thousand times before and would probably feel again…but just like that kiss, it was more. And I just couldn’t explain it.

“Keep it PG-13, please, I am still here. Not that either of you pay attention to me,” Veles chattered. I smiled – giddy, high, and drunk on my soaring heart – and nearly collapsed against Sykron. It was at the last moment, but I remembered his injury. I couldn’t do that _just_ yet.

Sykron looked at me.” What is…what is ‘PG-13’?”

“No…ah, fuck it. It means no fucking.”

His eyes widened.” Well…alright.”

“Sorry, can’t anyways. Doctor’s orders.”

“Fuck you, then.”

“You know you want to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why hello there!
> 
> Yeah, I'm not dead yet. Tired, but not dead. I've doing some of the Fictober prompts, so those will be coming out every now and again throughout the next...however long. Considering I've got actual free time next weekend, maybe then. I wanted to kind of getting a move on with their relationship, so I made it happen. This chapter is definitely not betaed - nothing of mine is - but hey, here we go. I had fun writing this.
> 
> For some real life news, it turns out Aeronautical & Astronautical Engineering is quite hard. Like, really hard. Doesn't help that, in practice, my class schedule is quite a lot harder to manage that I thought it would be when I made it last semester.
> 
> In brighter news, my classes are actually going fairly well and I think my grades won't suck completely at the end of the semester, I've been setting personal bests on my physical tests, and I got to go to a heavy metal/punk rock festival for a weekend for some very greatly needed R&R two weekends ago, and had an awesome time. If you ever get the chance to see A Day to Remember or the Dropkick Murphys in concert, take it - fantastic shows were put on by both, easily the best two concerts I've ever been to.
> 
> I'm tired and rambling. Hooray. Sorry you had to endure that.
> 
> Side note: I have a Tumblr page now! Feel free to come hang out and gaze at random posts mainly about Destiny and other random nerd things while I try to convince myself to overcome social anxiety and actually post other stuff. Find me at [@krastbannert](https://krastbannert.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Hopefully I won't take two months on the next chapter for this story. Forgot how much I missed this thing until I started writing this chapter. Alright, you've endured enough of my randomness. Enjoy your lives, friends!


	5. Chapter V - Infection

# Infection

## “Sometimes, accepting help is harder than offering it.” – Unknown

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Of course something had gone wrong.

In my life, when _didn’t_ something go wrong?

Sykron’s laceration had taken several days to heal adequately for him to walk, and another week after that before he was back to full working order. He had few complaints, and he seemed to more or less be back to his clumsy self. There didn’t seem to be a single thing wrong – his jokes were just as bad, he was almost as good a shot, just a tad clumsier, and a tad slower.

We were sitting in a bar - some tiny, nameless place nestled in an outlaw cave town in Old Persia - nursing our drinks. I was having some kind of local beer – it was tart rather than bitter, which I found odd but surprisingly good – while Sykron elected to have traditional arak. And oh, boy, was it hilarious.

He really didn’t have a great tolerance, even after I’d first introduced him to alcohol a year and a half ago. Veles had been egging him on, trying to get him to keep up with me – I was on beer six, and he has just finished cup two. He had taken a drink from his third cup, which had just been presented in front of him, and immediately descended into a fit of coughing.

I was laughing at his light-weight ass when suddenly his coughing changed to…something worse.

It became this…this odd sputtering I’d never heard before, in a Fallen or a human. I glanced at him and froze; he was convulsing, arms seizing, grabbing at anything in reach. He spilled out of his chair, clawing at the ground. I sat there for a moment until his eyes darkened, and blood began to drip from his mouth.

I had barely blinked before Veles had us back in my jumpship and heading to the Tangled Shore.

**-[-]-**

“Fascinating! I happen to know exactly what happened, and I can _absolutely_ do something about it. I did once before, actually! See, this Fallen Archon had gotten a scratch from his Wizard friend and-“

“Woah, hey, enough details said! So, you’ll help me out?”

“Oh, yeah, totally!” She flipped her ponytail, picked up a test tube, and swished it around.

I didn’t want to know what the sludge inside it was.

I crossed my arms, leaning on the bench next to me before I thought better of it. The shit that Alvera liked to pick up was varied, most of it disgusting in some way. I was no germaphobe, but I didn’t want to end up like Sykron.

She was...not exactly a friend, more an old bounty I’d never collected on because she could prove useful. Very strange, completely obsessed with pathology, infectious diseases, virology, biological processes, chemical and biological weaponry and warfare…and the Hive.

I’d visited her a twice before; each was… _interesting_.” What’s the catch?”

Alvera spun to face me, replacing the tube with a flourish, her lips pursed.

“Who said anything about a catch? Cause I sure didn’t!”

I sighed and followed as she skipped deeper into her shop. Looking around at the test tubes, the stinking Hive carcasses, the odds and ends piled around, the strange plants that I’d never seen before even though this was at least my third time here…it made the hair on my neck rise and goosebumps crawl.

“Alvera, there is _always_ a catch with you. Literally every single time I’ve asked you something, there’s been a catch. So what is it?”

She stopped, turning to face me, tapping her chin.” Well, I know you still have that bounty on me…whaddya say you forget that little thing exists? I don’t have a guarantee you won’t come to collect and that…oh! Wait! My experiments!”

With that, she dashed away deeper into her shop. Veles audibly groaned.” She’s always like this! Why did you even come here?”

“Because she knows this gross shit better than anyone we’ve ever met.”

“…fair point.”

**-[-]-**

Eventually I managed to literally tear Alvera away from her work long enough to get her to come out. I shredded the bounty tag, and she hopped on her own Sparrow and followed me back to my jumpship. I almost broke down upon seeing Sykron; his condition had gotten so much worse in the four-hour time I’d been gone.

His blackened veins strained against his skin, terrifying rivers of black running up his chest, his neck, his face…it was awful. Even Alvera seemed a little taken aback, her eyes were locked onto the massive scar on his chest. It had been pretty fresh – only five and a half weeks old – and stretched almost from his shoulder to waist. And with this… _sickness_ …it had become even more…disturbing: a deep, dark, black that seemed to suck in all the light around it, blackened veins and strips of flesh protruding out from it.

I clenched a fist.

“What…um, what happened to him?” she stuttered, the first time I’d _ever_ heard her do that.

“Hive Knight. One of their swords.”

“Oh…” her voice trailed off. She shuffled back and forth. I could tell she hadn’t seen this before.

“So, can…can you help him?” My voice cracked, and my heart began to race – I could feel it pounding in my chest, in my ears. Alvera hesitated – her face steeled suddenly, and she nodded. Veles popped into the air as she stepped forwards.

“Need help?”

“Assistance would be lovely anywhere else but right now, I need you to back away, little light.”

“I resent that.”

“Hush, old man.” I batted feebly at the Ghost; he sniggered for a moment before he quieted. He bumped me on the forehead, settled on my shoulder. My breath hitched as Alvera knelt next to Sykron.

Something snapped in my heart as I watched her kneel. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, my hands locked onto my arms. My vision tunneled until I was staring at Sykron’s face. His eyes flashed open – panicked, flighty, darting everywhere, burning bright with fever.

Sykron writhed, and his mouth opened in an awful screeching unlike anything in my darkest dreams. I stumbled back into the wall of my ship, clamping my hands over my ears as my eyes slammed shut.

The screaming was so loud…so…so loud…

There was a brilliant white flash, and the screaming suddenly just…stopped. There was another flash – vague shapes appeared through my eyelids.

I opened my eyes.

Alvera had one hand splayed over Sykron’s heart, and another on his forehead. Ropes of orange and white swirled around her wrists. Her eyes _glowed_ , warm but fiery and energetic. She breathed, entire body rising.

I threw my hands up, expecting what was coming – another white burst, but it had a…different feel to it. It wasn’t like the sudden cracks, before.

It was more gradual. Kinder, somehow; warmer. It was beautiful, in a way. The light flared to a brilliance so incredible, it was…so bright, so hot it was painful to even be in the same room. Then, it was gone.

I opened my eyes – Alvera sat back on her haunches, breathing hard. She glanced over at me and smiled weakly. She waved feebly at Sykron. “Go, check out your boy toy. He should be healthy enough for your sexy times in a day or two.”

I ignored her jest and darted to Sykron’s side. The angry blackness was gone from his chest, from his face, from his veins. His eyes were still under his lids, his breathing even and not labored. He was unconscious, but…there was no evidence of any infection. Of… _anything_. He was…he was better. Much better. What had Alvera _done_?

I didn’t realize I’d spoken out loud until Alvera spoke.

“That’s for me to know and you to agonize over.”

I turned to face her, cradling Sykron’s sleeping form.” Of course you’d say that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!
> 
> Well, here it is: chapter five. Really not sure how I felt about this, but I kind of liked the idea of having a mad-scientist lady when I thought of it.
> 
> Only one more chapter to go, and guess what: it's finished. I'll post it in a couple days. 
> 
> For now, Happy New Year to all, and enjoy!


	6. Chapter VI - Gunshot

# Gunshot

## “When pushed to the limit of endurance, a man can find great reserves within.” – Jedi Knight, _Star Wars: The Old Republic_

****

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__

__  


A distant rumble echoed in my ears. Birds darted up from the ruined buildings, spooked by the sudden movement, their cries echoing down the broken street.

__

_“Building collapse.”_ Sykron’s voice hissed in my earpiece, a brief burp of static accompanying the transmission. _” No explosion.”_

__

“Damn it,” I spat. I had hoped that maybe that had been the Eliksni crew we’d been hunting, trying to erase evidence – but no. Of _course_ it wasn’t.

__

We’d been stuck in the ruins of Munich for three days trying to hunt down this crew – their leader was a former Silent Fang, and we’d been given a _very_ generous bounty. We’d tracked them here, but we couldn’t find their nest – and I was getting frustrated. It had been _three days_ since I’d eaten something other than ready-to-eat rations. I was starting to get clogged up.

__

I sighed, shook my head, and poked my rifle out from behind the wall. There was nothing but a few birds, and the eerie silence of a dead city. I shook my head, ducking back; the view, the increasing pitter-patter of rain, the distant crack of thunder… _no._ Not right now.

__

I ducked out, crouching low – the street was clear for two hundred yards, rusted cars and broken streetlights littering the shattered asphalt and concrete thoroughfare. Dead cities always made the hair on my neck stand up. This one, though, this one was just _odd_.

__

It was quiet, yes, which was normal. But it was… _still_. There was nothing. This was more than just the absence of action, of…of _movement_ …there was literally _nothing._

__

The air was still. The wind was gone – the trees, the grass, the weeds, they didn’t sway. They didn’t move _at all_. The sun darkened and the shadows lengthened. A thousand pairs of eyes cast their gaze upon me and I whirled, searching for them. It was…something was wrong. Deathly wrong. I gazed around the street, trying to find something, _anything_ that was unnatural or out of place. There was an open shop door there, a destroyed truck there, crashed Skiff over there…

__

Something washed over me like a wave. A split second later, it was like I’d been punched in the chest, the wind knocked out of me, and my entire world came crashing down around me.

__

My lungs heaved, looking for air they couldn’t find. My vision turned dark, tunneling to pinpricks of light, somewhere in the distance. I felt myself stumble backwards as I gasped. I felt the cold plastic and titanium of my rifle slide out of my hand; it crunched somewhere in the dust. My head pounded as a distant, droning ring began to fill my ears.

__

“Veles…” I managed to gasp. My throat closed in – _no no no,_ why’s that happening, what is…

__

“Lia, something’s wrong…something’s very…very wrong.”

__

Then I was knocked back as something slammed into my stomach, fiery and hot. I felt flat on my back as the characteristic _pabh_ of a wire rifle rang out somewhere in…somewhere. White hot pain crashed over my body; something that sounded vaguely like another shot rang somewhere else.

__

Everything was foggy, my head clogged with noise and dancing lights and exploding pain.

__

_“Stay alive, Lia. Just_ stay alive _.”_ Sykron’s voice echoed in my ears. Stars that voice, I couldn’t listen to it for a thousand years…or just…until I died… _please_ … _please not yet_ … _there’s so much to do_ … _so much I want to_ …

__

**-[-]-**

__

Dreams, I had always thought, were strange.

__

Were they visions, sent by some higher power? Were they hallucinations, driven by the subconscious – something that played on our deepest hopes and fears? Were they something else entirely?

__

It was a simple question. One I’d asked myself a thousand times a thousand in the four centuries I’d been alive, back in this world. I’d had many dreams, many nightmares in that time. But this time, they weren’t just _dreams_. They were…they were _more_.

__

I floated amongst milky white clouds, flying through the air, like a bird. The sun shone on me, warming my skin as beams of sunlight pierced brilliant white clouds.

__

A bird soared next to me, trailing light and dark tendrils from its opalescent wings. I recognized the bird – a hawk, or falcon.

__

It dove and I saw a mountain valley. We flew down a river, to a city…no, _the_ City. The Traveler was large, so large, and a deep midnight black. The City was painted in shades of flickering orange and red.

__

Fire. The City was burning, entire blocks on fire. There were faint screams in the distance. It was a moment before I realized I was screaming, too.

__

I dove into the river below. Bubbles clouded my sight, and I raised disembodied hands to wave them away.

__

When I looked again, bodies reached towards me – ashen grey, faces contorted in agonizing pain and screams. Their eyes stared straight at me – all of them, every single pair. The eyes were dead…and cold.

__

I was dragged another direction. Light filtered in through the water, ripples of the surface – I was deep, very, very deep. I flew to the surface. Something hovered near the surface. As I got close, they dropped like a ton of bricks: vague pyramid shapes, dropping to the water. I twisted and dove among them and turned down into the deep.

__

Something appeared in the midst; suddenly I wasn’t in the water anymore. A great maw absorbed something in front of me. Light emanated from the maw. I flew into the light.

__

I dove into it, completely blind. I emerged on the other side in an electric blue tunnel. I twisted out of it and saw three things – three ethereal weapons.

__

A spear, the clear electric sapphire of the greatest arcs of lightning.

__

A sword, the fiery orange-red fire of the most brilliant stars.

__

A shield, the rich violet amethyst of the darkest depths.

__

The shield faded as the falcon returned, coasting into the sky. I followed.

__

Water appeared beneath me, and the falcon and I arced over it. A coastline appeared – wooded, a deep boreal forest spread out over hills and mountains. Then something else appeared out of the haze. A giant construction, bleeding white and blue light.

__

No, not just light…but… _Light_ …

__

Lightning arced among the broken spires that curled up among distant mountain peaks. The falcon arced away towards it, disappearing in a flash. I realized what the spires were as everything went black.

__

**-[-]-**

__

The journey to consciousness as I started to wake up was a difficult, nebulous one.

__

I was numb. My senses, dulled to mere pricks of sensation. I forced my mind to reach out to any limb that would respond. I felt my fingers wiggle distantly in the fog. _Good_. Next came toes – barely any movement, but I felt them wiggle.

__

Still, though, everything felt clouded, faded, and gloomy, like walking through a pre-dawn fog in those moments before sunrise on a cloudy day. The next thing I felt was pressure; something on my abdomen. There was…something resting on – no, _around_ my abdomen.

__

I managed to open my eyes only to be blinded instantly. The light bathing me was only a gentle orange, but I could have been looking into the sun for all I knew. I tensed, raising my arm an inch, then another inch, then another, until I was able to just barely rub my eyes. A voice drifted through the fog: it was muffled and unclear, like earplugs had been jammed in my ears and cotton balls pressed on top of those.

__

I blinked as my hand was lifted and laid across my chest. I felt some kind of cloth under my hand – the feeling, though, like everything else, was dull and fogged. Not…not correct. What _happened_ to me?

__

The next time the other person spoke, I could make out the words – indistinct, but I could hear them. “Hey…ness, can you he…me? …ake? Ah, damn it…hen I tho…ing lucky…”

__

The voice was…familiar. Vaguely familiar…it was on the tip of tongue. I forced all the energy I could muster to the surface, pulling in a deep breath and snapping my eyes open.

__

The person’s hand snapped to mine. My blurred vision filled with a face – sharp cheekbones, fiery hair, and freckles. That was all I could see before I had to snap my eyes shut again. I tried to swallow and my throat sealed up before lighting on fire. _Stars_ , it burned…

__

“…ink once for yes, two for no. Can...ear my…oice?”

__

I struggled, but I did it – I blinked once. I waited a moment, then blinked twice; it was slow and agonizing, trying to control anything. The feeling had finally returned to my body: everything was sore and stiff like a board, unless I tried to move it, then the muscles began to scream.

__

“…little bit? Alright…at’s good enough. I’m…give you…icine, okay sweetness?” I blinked once. The minutes felt like hours in the sea of pain and fog, but it felt as if everything was beginning to clear. There was a quiet hiss, and something as cold as ice rushed into my arm. I waited a while I tried to do anything, for once choosing to allow the meds do their work. I replayed the words in my head as I waited.

__

_Sweetness_.

__

The word stood out in my mind amidst everything I could remember. There was only one person who’d ever called me that – it had always been sarcastic, a friendly jest, one of those joking insults used against a close friend. But…why would she be here? And…and helping me? It made no sense…last time I’d seen her, we’d been screaming at each other.

__

I’d said a lot of things I’d spent a century regretting.

__

Finally, when I felt ready, I opened my eyes. The orange sun had been dimmed enough that I could see without being completely blinded. I let my eyes roam – flaky paint on wooden walls, a patchwork roof above, something soft under me. A bed, probably, and a _very_ comfortable one.

__

I put the thought out of my mind as I tried to lift my head. I winced as a lance of pain shot through my gut. I was barely able to lift my head enough to see what I was wearing before I collapsed back: only a sports bra and a massive bandage wrapped around my midsection. Everything else was covered in a blanket. I closed my eyes and dug to try and remember something, _anything_ about how I’d gotten here.

__

I’d…I’d been shot by…something. I had never seen what shot at me. Right before that, something had…something had happened and I’d lost…

__

My thoughts were interrupted as a cold glass was pressed into my hands. I felt someone grip my shoulders gently and prop me up – I winced as that lancing pain came back - and helped me slowly raise the glass to my chapped lips. Cold water trickled into my raw throat.

__

“Easy does it. Can’t have you drinking yourself to death with water. Too embarrassing, even for you.”

__

I let out a weak snort as I opened my eyes.

__

Fiery red hair. Freckles dusted across gloriously high cheekbones. Big round eyes the color of the sea – strangely dull, but still tantalizingly beautiful. A tired smile split full lips. Proportioned better than I ever could hope to be. Yep, it was _her_.

__

“Nice to see you, too, Sara,” I rasped. Damn, my voice was hoarse. I took another drink. The coolness of the water was cloud nine for my throat.

__

She smiled, face brightening for just a moment.” You gave us a hell of a scare. This is the first time you’ve been conscious in the two weeks you’ve been here.”

__

Blunt as all hell, just like I remembered.” Where…where am…am I?” The words felt strange and unfamiliar, my tongue numb.

__

“Somewhere safe,” she responded. Her smile drooped.” You took a wire rifle to the gut. Somehow the rod went all the way through without hitting anything. You’re lucky, sweetness.”

__

I shook my head, then froze. The glass slipped from my hand. _Sykron…Veles_

__

“W-where’s...Veles and…”

__

“They’re fine, they’re both alright. Veles is a little dinged up, and your…um, your Fallen is exhausted, but they’re right over there.” She stepped to the side and I was greeted by the oddly amusing sight of Sykron huddled under a sheet, cuddling up to a ball of blankets that I just _knew_ was Veles.

__

I let out the breath I’d been holding as Sara reached over and took the glass from my lap. She refilled it and gave it back.” Don’t…don’t let him…let him hear you say…that. He…hates the word… _Fallen_.”

__

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. I stayed silent, looking down and tapping the side of my glass. Sara took a seat on a chair to the side of my bed.

__

”What is it to you, anyways? It won’t say.”

__

“He’s…special,” I answered, taking another drink. I swished the water around in my mouth before tipping my head back and swallowing. I leaned back against the wall and swallowed. Now that she said it…what _was_ Sykron, to me? We’d…never actually discussed it.

__

“I gathered that, the way it treated you. It was ready to kill anything that tried to touch you when you guys got here and it insisted on being in the same room as you until two days ago.”

__

My brow furrowed.” What do…you mean?”

__

Sara’s eyebrow quirked. She tossed her wavy hair over one shoulder, leaned back in her chair.” When you got here, it was half dead from exhaustion. You were barely alive.” Sara sighed, looking down at the floor. She glanced back.” Veles said you were in Hamburg. And that…that your Fallen…it stopped your bleeding and…just started running.”

__

She sighed, rubbing her arms.” It got you here – we’re near old Switzerland – eight days later. That Fallen…I’ve never heard of anything like it.”

__

I was…that was…I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Four hundred miles…in _eight_ _days_? Carrying _me_?

__

“How did he do it?”

__

“I don’t know. But it did, and you’re…you’re here.” My stomach groaned in the silence, and we looked at each other. Our lips split into grins.” And hungry. I’ll get you something.” With that, she stood, turned on her heel, and strode off. Sara stopped in the doorway and looked over her shoulder. She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, then closed it again. She chewed on her lip, eyes glancing up at me.

__

“What is it?” I asked.

__

“Lia…” she started,” there’s…a lot has happened, since I last saw you. And there’s a lot I want to tell you. But…right now…I’m just glad you’re alive.”

__

I smiled as my eyes drifted to Sykron, his face barely visible under his blanket. His was face so peaceful, mouth hanging open just a little as he slept. Looking at him, I realized something. It was simple, yet so profound. I’d felt it once before, but not in this same way. I realized that I…I _never_ wanted to leave that man.

__

Even in death, I wanted to be with him, always. I wanted to hear his laugh, watch him smile, to treat every stupid wound he got himself. I wanted to feel my heart flip when I caught him looking at me, to always feel that warmth I’d get whenever he spoke. I…I just wanted _him._

__

”Me too.”

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, my first-ever finished story that isn’t a oneshot. It’s been a long run with this story - it was originally published on May 20, 2019 - but I did it, and honestly...it feels really good.
> 
> At some points I didn’t think I’d finish it. But I did - that gives me some semblance of confidence to write longer stories. For those who did follow this story, thank you for hanging out - it’s been great, and I appreciate the support I got.
> 
> I also decided I'd try and learn to draw this year. My first attempt, below, is a rough sketch of Lia, the POV character from this story (as you probably know), based on the screenshot I took of her in the Destiny 1 character creator, when I first made her 3+ years ago. You can see the detailed post on my [Tumblr](https://krastbannert.tumblr.com/), but I've included the sketch below for your enjoyment.
> 
> Any comments about the story or the picture, suggestions, anything like that are very welcome. This isn’t the end for these guys. See you next time.
> 
> -Krast

**Author's Note:**

> Experimenting a little bit. I've been sitting on this idea for a while, not sure how it will turn out because I'm not used to writing romance. At all. But hopefully you guys enjoy it. Please leave kudos, a comment, something or other - it's a big help in working up motivation to actually post stuff. It also helps me understand what I could do better, and what I'm doing well right now.


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